Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I'm only a fan writing for pure entertainment and do not mean to gain any sort of profit from this.

Warnings: SLASH LV/HP. The first line or so is taken exactly out of DH.

A/N: Review please. I'm not sure if I should continue with this, more details on what is to follow at the end of this chapter. If I get to see that people are interested in reading this (alerts/reviews etc) , I'll continue. If not, then I'll continue till I get bored.

Chapter 1: Face to Face

Finally, the truth. Lying with his face pressed into the dusty carpet of the office where he had once thought he was learning the secrets of victory, Harry understood at last that he was not supposed to survive.

The endless battle, the fight for survival. All meaningless, all trivial. Why, why did his heart pump so quickly now? In a few moments its once unceasing beating would cease and his body, the one that carried the identity of Harry Potter would rot over time. His soul, now that the existence of such things had been confirmed by his knowledge of horcruxes, would hopefully move on to a better place. A place where perhaps his loved ones would be waiting for him. Either his family, Sirius or just someone to call his own and someone that would call him their own.

Harry tried not to think of those he loved here and how painful it would be to leave them. Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, the Order,...Ginny. Harry throat tightened painfully at their names but in his heart there was resignation. He'd known...he'd known somewhere deep inside that his future was Voldemort. And that one day, he would have to leave them all behind and face whatever he had in store for him. A fight, torture and even a willing death.

"So you've finally found out." spoke a voice softly from the shadows, yanking Harry out of his reverie. Harry stood up quickly, his hand reaching into his pocket to grab Draco's wand, his eyes searching for the owner of the voice that had interrupted his consideration of the long-awaited truth.

There was movement behind him and Harry spun around, while drawing out the wand and came face to face with the tall, looming figure of Lord Voldemort. If it were possible, Harry's heartbeat increased in frequency and the knuckles holding the hawthorn wand went white.

The Dark Lord stepped away from the door, Dumbledore's famous wand in his own hand, giving Harry, for the first time, not a look full of loathing but instead one of cold disregard. The look unnerved Harry and he stared back for a moment with defiance, before remembering what he had just seen and lowering his wand, dropping his hand beside him.

Along with his heart, blood was now beating in his ears and Harry thought it rather amusing that he was getting a drum roll before he met his end. Despite his fear, anger also flashed in his mind at the thought of Voldemort back in Hogwarts and back in Dumbledore's office of all places. The office held many precious and painful memories for him and he hated that Voldemort would be fouling them with his presence. However, he was also grateful he would die here, away from some prying eyes and other eyes that were sure to look hopeless at the sight of the Chosen One, their saviour, killed pathetically and unable to save their ungrateful selves from the Dark Lord and his regime.

Harry stared at said Dark Lord, the image in front of his eyes becoming sharp as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Without taking his eyes off of him either, Voldemort stepped closer to him and came to a stop with bare inches left between them and grasped Harry's chin with his long fingers.

Swirling crimson eyes narrowed. "A pity, that after 16 years of chasing you," he murmured softly, "I now cannot even kill you."

Harry's scar gave its usual response at being close to Voldemort as it seared in pain. But it was not the scar that worried Harry, it was Voldemort's words. He felt something tight constricting his chest as his eyes widened and he struggled to breathe, stepping backward to lean against the chair in front of the headmaster's desk. "No!" he suddenly blurted out, "You must. You have to."

Voldemort grasped his chin tighter. "So eager to die now, are we?" Voldemort said mockingly and released Harry a sideways sweep of his arm, so that he stumbled and had to use dead headmaster's desk to steady himself.

Harry clutched the desk hard with his fingers and breathed loudly through his nose in an effort to calm himself. The pain in his scar lessened to bearable level and Harry could finally think again. Turning away from the Dark Lord, Harry stared at the window to his right as realization dawned upon him and his earlier panicked weakness turned into dread, making his stomach muscles clench.

He knows.

Harry turned back to stare at the Dark Lord, who had been watching with the same narrowed eyes. "How do you know?" Harry asked.

"I am all knowing, boy. I do not need to explain myself to the likes of you."

"Funny, Riddle, how you would consider me different from yourself despite the fact that it is a part of your soul that lives inside me," replied Harry, not knowing what enabled him to reply with cheek in the face of something worse than the quick painless death Dumbledore had planned for him.

Voldemort's face twisted into an angry grimace and his crimson eyes flashed. Harry stood his ground as Voldemort walked toward Harry, surprising him as he took Harry's right arm and turned on the spot, disapparating both of them from the Headmaster's office.

For the second time that night, Harry lay on his stomach with his cheek pressed against the hard ground. The sudden chill in the air and the whooshing wind heard by his ringing ears, a symptom he still experienced after disapparation, told him that he was outside this time. Harry jumped to his feet and took in his surroundings. He was at the setting where a number of his nightmares took place, all stemming from the one memory that still made his feel turn cold. The graveyard. Just a little ways off of Little Hangleton where Lord Voldemort had been resurrected using Harry's own blood, the bones of his muggle father and the hand of his cowardly servant, or death eater as they were known, Wormtail.

It was also the place where he had first seen another person die, not counting his mother as he was just a baby when she had been ruthlessly murdered by Voldemort. The same Voldemort whose soul, a piece of rather, Harry still carried with him since that day. Did carrying the soul of such a depraved being make him such as well? The thought of it was too much for him and Harry leaned over to the side and vomited whatever little had been in his stomach.

"Pathetic... weak", Voldemort commented snidely as he watched Harry with the corners of his mouth turned down, "And the last person who I'd have chosen to carry a part my soul."

Harry wiped his mouth at the back of his palm and glared at the Dark Lord. "Believe me I'm not thrilled at the thought either. Why have you brought me here?"

"Because I need to decide what to do with you," Voldemort replied.

Another person would have been affronted at being talked about as an object needed to be done something with. But after having the Dursleys first decide his fate and then Dumbledore and the Order speak of him as 'the boy', he was quite used to such behaviour.

"Why don't you just kill me then? It'll be easy for you won't it? After all you've killed enough people in the past to make an army out of them. What's one other?" Harry said this conversationally enough but his eyes still duelled with the other man's.

"Suffering from selective memory, Potter? You seem to have conveniently forgotten what you had been so keen to remind me of only moments before. You are a horcrux. My horcrux. And you carry a piece of my soul in you. Which of course... is without my consent. So please Harry, do not delude yourself into thinking that you will get out of this with something as painless as the Avada Kedavra. You shall suffer." Voldemort hissed, his eyes narrowed once again.

Harry's lips tightened at Voldemort's speech. He then did the only thing that might illicit an almost human, non-lord like response from the man. He insulted him.

"Perhaps my selective memory is side effect of your soul? After all, it gave many other gifts such as parseltounge. Perhaps brain damage was another?" Harry spoke innocently, smiling without humour all the while.

Much to Harry's dismay, Voldemort only chuckled in his high cold voice, "Do not think me as foolish as a Gryffindor. I do not wear my heart upon my sleeve to be offended at each pathetic insult. You will not be able to get at me, Harry. And it is instead you're insolence in thinking you can do so, that angers me."

Voldemort sneered at him as he waved his hand in a forward direction, causing Harry to fly off the ground and hit the headstone of Tom Riddle's grave and crumple on the ground beneath it. With another flick of Voldemort's finger, Harry was forced to stand up against the headstone, invisible wires binding him there.

There was a long silence; Voldemort, waiting for only lord knows what and Harry, waiting for the crucio that never came. Finally, gathering his courage, Harry asked, "Well, what have you decided?"

Voldemort did not reply. Instead, he seemingly slithered through the overgrown glass around the graveyard, towards a small stone path that led to village. The hood of his robe, hooded his face by itself as the invisible bindings on Harry released themselves. Harry first instinct of course, was to disapparate. He tried acting on the instinct but found himself as incapable as he had been at the age of 15 before he had learned how.

"Did you think me foolish, Potter? I have placed an Anti-disapparation charm on you. Now you will only disapparate in side-along disapparation. A rather useful charm that the ministry invented in order to restrain those that broke the law..." Voldemort said while looking over his shoulder in response to the gasp that has escaped Harry when he found himself unable to disapparate.

"You will follow me Harry," continued Voldemort as he turned back, "You have nowhere else to go. Your protectors are dead, Hogwarts is a playground for my death eaters tonight and believe me, using our new found connection I will be able to seek you out wherever you are on the face of the earth."

Voldemort began to glide once again along the path. Harry understood Voldemort's reasoning and the assuredness with which he was convinced Harry would follow. After all, now that he could not die, he would at least refrain from endangering others by hiding with them. Harry looked up at the starry sky, its vastness now seeming like a cage to him. Feeling more helpless than he ever had before, Harry turned to follow the Dark Lord through the trees leading to the village.

A/N: And that is it for the first chapter folks. As you can possibly guess, the setting for the next few chapters will be Little Hangleton and since there is only one place in that muggle infested area good enough for our snobby dark lord, the two them will be staying at Riddle Manor for a while.

For the first few chapters (If I get that far), I'll be focusing on HP and LV before bringing in other characters. And yes, since this a sort of continuation of DH, there WILL be other characters, a legit plot and an ending.

Also yes, this is slash and since this is slash, the characters will have to get a little OC. What I'm actually trying to accomplish with this story is to have them as in-character as possible while the whole thing being a slash fic. (I have big dreams, I know, but lets see how it turns out)

So during reading, even if don't feel like leaving me a nice little review saying how much you like this, please please please if you find somewhere that I've done something horribly OC with the characters, review or msg me and give me some good criticism.

Thanks for reading :D Now go and waste some more time and ignore doing your homework/housework/feeding your dog etc in favor of more fanfic :)